


that which adoreth (thou art that, and that am I)

by galacticdrift (Ancalime)



Category: Tanis (Podcast)
Genre: BUT THAT'S NOT GONNA STOP ME, Drinking, Jossed, M/M, Masturbation, Recreational Marijuana, no longer canon-compliant as of 3x06, rating will increase in later chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-06-04 20:08:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6673831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ancalime/pseuds/galacticdrift
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I had an anon request for "fake!dating AU with extra pining Geoff," and, well, here we are.</p><p>Title is from the Gnostic Mass of the Ordo Templi Orientis -- I deeply apologize for my creative liberties to any actual Thelema practitioners that might read this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"So this woman, this Soror Artemna, lives in the Pacific Northwest now?"

"Hard to tell if she lives here. But she's definitely here right now, or she's going to be soon. The local chapter of the OTO has a private retreat scheduled next weekend, a banquet in her honor sort of thing."

"You can find that stuff out, but you can't track down _any_ contact info for her?"

"Well, 'Soror Artemna' obviously isn't her real name. She's incredibly secretive, and these people aren't exactly big believers in digitizing their top-secret sex cult business to begin with."

Nic sighed. "And she's the _only_ living person left who took part in this 'Atlantean Operation?'"

"Yup."

"Great." Nic scrubbed at his face, hoping the coffee would kick in soon. "If we know where the banquet is going to be held, maybe I could-- send a letter, asking to meet?"

Even through the low-res Skype connection, MK's expression of skepticism was clear. "Yeah, that'll definitely work."

"What do you suggest? Know any friendly Thelema practitioners who could go to this banquet and ask her some questions for me?"

"No, but--" MK broke off and eyed him.

"What?"

"I could get you in."

"Me? How? I'm not a member of the order."

"I can get you the invite. You respond and say you're visiting from Vancouver and you'd like to attend. They'll email the head of the order there to verify, I'll intercept it and confirm you're a member in good standing."

"That sounds like a little more than _information specialist_ territory."

"Don't say it."

"Okay." Nic tried not to let his smile get too big. "You really think that would work, though? I mean, I've read some stuff, but I don't know anything about the actual practice of Thelema."

"You'd pretend to be one of the lower-ranked members. Pretty sure with all the stuff you've read you can bullshit your way through."

Nic chuckled. "Thanks, I think. Should I make up an alias?"

"Are you kidding? Your name is _Nicodemus Silver_. They'll fuckin' eat it up, they'll never believe that's your real name." MK paused, peering into the camera. "There's just...one thing."

"What?"

"This private retreat thing? It's marked as couples-only."

"Oh." Nic sagged back in his chair. "Hm."

"Don't look at _me_ ," MK said, when he glanced at the screen. "You can do the mystical mumbo-jumbo dance. I'm not touching that shit with a ten foot pole."

"Well, Alex is out of the question." Nic frowned. "It would be way too weird for me and her both."

"Plus Strand would have you killed."

"And Strand would have me killed, yeah."

"What about Geoff?"

"Van...Sant? What about him?"

"Bet he'd be your pretend boyfriend for the weekend."

"What?" Nic laughed, making a face at his laptop. "I seriously doubt it."

MK shrugged. "Well, figure something out in the next couple of days or it'll be too late to RSVP."

"Okay, thank--" _Bloop_. Nic sighed, then got out his cell phone, unlocking it and opening up his contacts, then staring at Geoff's entry for a while.

"Hey Nic--"

"Alex!" Nic jolted up in his chair and spun around. "What's up?"

"There were a couple of clips I wanted to go over with you, if you're done with MK."

"Yeah." Nic stood up. "Hey-- if I needed an emergency date for a sketchy Tanis situation next weekend, who would you recommend?"

Skeptical looks were the order of the day, apparently. "Well, I know who _I'd_ go with. But that doesn't help you much."

"No, not so much."

"MK said no?"

"It's-- not really her forte."

"True." Alex drummed her fingers against her phone. "I'll go with you if you need me to."

"Absolutely not. I'm not asking you to go with me." Nic shook his head. "Not this time."

"C'mon, it wouldn't be the first time we've fake-dated for a story." Laughing, Alex bumped her shoulder against his.

"Fake dating is one thing, but these people are into really-- weird stuff. Sex stuff."

"Oh." Alex wrinkled her nose. "Then-- sorry. That is a bit too far."

"No, don't worry about it. We're on the same page."

It stayed on his mind until he got home; Ein was trotting ahead of him on their evening walk when his phone buzzed, her red and white coat standing out from the gray gloom of twilight as she sniffed and marked every telephone pole and overgrown rhododendron. For a split second as he looked at Geoff's name on the message notification, he found himself wondering about that old idea of the "law of attraction" -- that thinking about the right thing, in the right way, at the right time, would bring it to you.

_Hey buddy! Poker party this weekend, you in?_

_Sounds great! Hey, I was actually just thinking about giving you a call._

Almost immediately, his phone rang. "Hey, Geoff."

"What's up, dude?"

"Okay, well, I have a huge, weird favor to ask."

"Name it."

"It's just-- please don't feel bad for saying no."

"I can't say either way until you tell me what it is. Lay it on me, bud."

"I need, uh. A fake date for next weekend. To go undercover to a private couples-only event."

"Yeah, sure thing." Nic took his phone off his ear to stare at it, only just returning it in time to catch the end of Geoff's question. "--dress code's gonna be?"

"What, that-- that's it? You don't want to know more?"

Geoff laughed. "Sure, of course I want to know more, but c'mon, you need a _fake date_ for a  _secret undercover mission_? I'm so on board. But I do need to know if I'm going to need to rent a tux."

"Oh. Well, I'm-- not actually sure about the dress code. I'll have to check on that."

"All right. So what's the deal? What do I need to know?"

"Uhhhh." Nic ran a hand through his hair. "You remember me talking about the Ordo Templi Orientis on the podcast? Thelema?"

"Yeah, I remember. Jack Parsons' weirdos."

"Right. This is an OTO event. The thing is, probably you remember this part too but I just want to be clear: they're pretty big into, um. Sex magick." Picking at the hem of his jacket, Nic felt warmth creep up into his face. On the one hand, he kind of wished this were a face-to-face conversation so he could better gauge Geoff's reaction; on the other hand, it would have been ten times as awkward asking him to be his undercover fake date to a sex cult weekend _in person_.

"Oh, hence couples-only."

"Exactly." Nic swallowed. "I'm... _pretty_ sure we wouldn't have to actually-- _do_ anything--"

He heard Geoff snicker.

"Shut up," Nic said, grinning down at his feet. "What I'm _trying_ to say is that if you're at all uncomfortable with that, I completely understand and I don't want you to feel pressured into this in any way."

"Dude, seriously, it's fine. I'm practically in the Pacific Northwest Stories staff listing as 'Guy who protects Nic Silver from orgies.'"

"That was _one_ time!"

"And I did such a good job they made it official." Nic laughed.

"Okay. Um. Thanks, Geoff. I really-- I can't tell you how much appreciate it."

"You kiddin' me? Spy games!" It might as well have been a video call; Nic could picture Geoff's excited expression from his tone of voice. "You're practically doing me a favor here."

"Okay." Nic smiled. "Anyway. Thanks again. I'll email you the info."

"Cool, cool. See you this weekend."

"Bye."

When Geoff hung up, Nic flipped over to Signal; MK had been adamant about communicating using secure services whenever possible. She only grudgingly continued to talk to him over Skype because she assumed anyone who was interested enough in Tanis to intercept their communications was probably more capable of doing it than Nic was of being able to navigate the level of security necessary to prevent it.

_You were right._

_Of course I was. What was it this time?_

_Geoff agreed to be my fake date for the retreat. Does the invite say what the dress code is?_

_You've got wizard robes somewhere in your closet, right?_

_I don't think I want to know how you know that about me._

_Not that hard to figure out. I sent you some info I dug up from archives of a couple old defunct websites on OTO dress codes. Ritual and otherwise._

_Thanks._

Over the next couple of days before Geoff's party, Nic collected up what MK had sent him and what he could find on his own. Geoff had invited him over for a few other social events previously; at first, Nic had worried that he stuck out like a sore thumb among Geoff's mostly military friends, especially when he had to explain they'd met because of Karl. Despite the awkwardness, though, he enjoyed Geoff's company, and Geoff kept inviting him -- without any sign of "I'm just doing this out of politeness" vibes -- so he showed up whenever his schedule allowed.

Bringing Ein helped; it was hard to feel unwelcome with a cute, friendly dog in tow. Nic swapped stories with some of Geoff's friends -- they loved some of the bizarre urban legends he'd learned, like Polybius and the Hum, and the completely real stories like just how bananas Jack Parsons really was. In exchange, he got to hear a whole panoply of embarrassing anecdotes about Geoff's time in the service.

Toward the end of the evening, as Geoff's friends started to trickle out, he and Nic shared a silent look; Nic lingered after the others left and the two of them ended up on the couch, passing a glass pot pipe back and forth. Geoff's friends had utterly worn Ein out with petting and backyard games of fetch and tug-of-war; she lay dozing on the floor, letting out tiny occasional snores and snuffling sleep-noises.

"So what did you find out about the dress code?"

"There are some videos floating around online that made the official stuff look pretty basic. A black robe over a white one, with a simple black and white cross-body sash." Fishing his phone out of his pocket, Nic leaned over. "Here. I've got some pictures."

Geoff craned his neck to look. "Huh. That's not too bad."

"Yeah. I'll send them to you. I'm tracking down some robes we can borrow -- unless you've got your own." Nic looked up in time to catch Geoff rolling his eyes, but if he'd missed it he'd have heard it in his tone.

"No, I don't own any ceremonial wizard robes." Geoff narrowed his eyes at Nic as he passed the pipe over, his lips curling upward. "Why, do you?"

"Um." A fit of coughing overtook him and he looked away. "Not-- the right kind."

Geoff's laughter rang out. Head tucked in against his chest, Nic kicked at Geoff's ankle. "Shut up."

"Dude, you're _such_ a fucking nerd." There was no hostility in it. "You've got your own Harry Potter robes, don't you? What's your Hogwarts house?"

"Ravenclaw."

"What's mine?"

Nic eyed him. "Hufflepuff."

"Give the man a prize." When Geoff winked at him, Nic felt himself flush.

"Um. Anyway." Nic chewed on his bottom lip. "The invitation actually says ceremonial dress will _not_ be required for most of the weekend."

"Speaking of which, when you say 'weekend,' how much time are we specifically talking here?"

"Pretty much the whole thing. We'll go there Friday afternoon, spend Friday and Saturday night, and things will wrap up midday Sunday."

"Got it. So when we're not in the robes--?"

"Weird fashion?" Nic shrugged. "I really don't know. Whatever you think secretive cult members wear when they're not wearing the ceremonial black robes."

"Fair enough. I'll see what I can dig out of my closet."

"Same here." After owning up to the robes, Nic wasn't about to admit that his closet had plenty of other 'weird fashion' already. "Oh -- you shouldn't use your real name, though. When these OTO people are together they all go by, uh, different names. Frater whatever for the men and Soror whatever for the women. Mystical-sounding stuff."

"Hmmmm. Okay, give me a minute, I gotta think about this." Geoff looked up at the ceiling, taking another hit from the pipe. The smoke trailed out of his mouth, falling upward in curling ribbons. "What's yours?"

Nic hesitated, then let out a sigh. "My real name."

Geoff looked at him. "Really? I thought Nic was short for Nicholas."

"Nope."

"Well, what then?"

"Fuck." Nic rubbed at his face with both hands. "...Nicodemus."

" _Nicodemus._ Oh man. Nicodemus Silver." Geoff's voice wrapped around his name, Nic watching his lips as he sounded out each syllable with careful attention. "You're right though, that's great, you really couldn't make up a better fake name."

He tipped his head down to grin at Nic, who shook his head but found himself smiling back anyway. "I hate it. I never tell anyone my name is Nicodemus, it's so ridiculous."

"I like it." Geoff's grin lingered as he looked back up at the ceiling. "You got a middle name, Nicodemus Silver?"

Nic groaned. "No. Just stop there, don't ask."

"You do!" Geoff bolted upright and went to lean toward him, but his grip on the upholstery slipped as he tried to prop himself up. His arm slid and he ended up practically on top of Nic, forearm pressed into the couch cushion next to Nic's head. When he started to fall, Nic reached up automatically, as if catching him would have accomplished anything. His chest was warm under Nic's hand, his cotton tee soft with age.

"Tell me," Geoff said, his voice low and teasing, bubbling with laughter. His head dipped, nudging against Nic's shoulder, and he let out what was very nearly a giggle. "It's awful, isn't it."

"The worst." Nic said, but Geoff's amusement was contagious. Shoulders shaking, he shoved at Geoff's chest. "Get off of me, I'm not telling!"

"No way, now I _have_ to know. Tell me." Geoff lifted his head up, smiling; from this distance, even in the room's dim lighting Nic could pick out the shades of deep brown in his eyes that usually all blended together into darkness.

"Fine." Nic dropped his head back against the couch. "...Horatio."

"Wow." Geoff whistled, _deeply_ amused if his shit-eating expression was anything to go by. "Nicodemus Horatio Silver."

"My parents: a classicist and an English lit professor."

"I'll say." Geoff shifted away to resettle himself on the couch, but only so far that he wasn't literally on top of Nic anymore, just pressed up against him from shoulder to thigh. "Man, I'm not even gonna try to come up with anything half that good."

"You've gotta think of something, though. Frater Nicodemus is okay, but Frater Geoff is never gonna fly."

"Hmm."

"Geoff, Geoffrey-- Godfrey?"

"Nah, God-anything still sounds too ordinary."

"Jasper...Giovanni?"

"That might work. Kind of-- mundane." Geoff hummed to himself. "Graham? Gray, gram-- Gram...maton?"

Nic nodded, considering. "As in the tetragrammaton?"

"I was more thinking as in the Grammaton Clerics from that one terrible movie with Christan Bale and all the guns, but I assumed they got it from somewhere interesting."

"Equilibrium! With the gun kata! Oh man, yeah, I'd forgotten about that movie, it really was awful." Nic waved his hands around in elaborate shooting motions, making the appropriate _pew, pew_ sound effects to go with them. When one hand got too close to his face Geoff wrapped his fingers around Nic's wrist, maneuvering his arm so the 'barrel' was pointed away.

"Hey, watch where you're pointing that thing." His hand dropped to Nic's knee and squeezed. "You know what we should do? We should watch that movie. Right now. I bet it's on Netflix. It's always on Netflix."

"Oh no. Pass me the pipe, I'm not high enough for this."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few notes on locations:  
> "The ID" is the International District, Seattle's Chinatown-type area. Maneki and Tsukushinbo are actual restaurants in that area, and the Pinball Museum is also a real thing that exists, though I haven't been to any of them. Uwajimaya is a ~~magical place~~ big Asian grocery store chain.

_Got any plans for Wednesday night?_

Nic's phone buzzed while he was in the middle of a production meeting with Alex and one of the interns, but they had gotten distracted talking about something or other on Tumblr long enough for him to unlock it and read the message from Geoff.

_No plans. What's up?_

It took long enough for the response that Nic had forgotten about it; the three of them were hashing out whether or not to include a particular clip in Alex's next episode, and if so, what parts of it and at what time. After the meeting, Alex trailed accompanied him to the break room to top up on coffee, and Nic checked his phone again.

_We should go on a practice fake date before the real fake date._

_What?_

_Think about it. We can get any awkwardness about it out of the way so we look more natural for the weekend._

"Huh." Nic said.

_That's actually a really good idea._

"What?" Alex asked as she refilled her mug.

"Remember my emergency fake date situation?" Nic held up his phone. "Geoff agreed to go with me. We're, uh, talking logistics."

"Oh, good!" Alex smiled, looking relieved and a little curious. "I didn't realize he wasn't actually straight. I mean, I did kind of wonder..."

_So, wanna go out Wednesday night?_

"I've heard more than a few embarrassing ex-boyfriend stories from his friends at this point." Nic said, smiling down at his phone. "He's definitely not straight."

_Sure. :)_

_What did you have in mind?_

"Actually, come to think of it, I thought _you_ were straight." Alex's voice was muffled as she rooted around in the fridge.

"I am. More or less."

_How about a visit to the Pinball Museum and dinner in the ID?_

Alex's raised eyebrow spoke volumes when she emerged from the fridge with the hazelnut creamer.

"There may have been some-- experimentation, in college." Nic ducked his head, feeling his cheeks grow warm.

"Nic! In all the years we've known each other, how have I not heard about this 'experimentation' before now?" Alex's voice was teasing.

"It was a long time ago."

_Sounds great. When are you off work?_

"Uh huh. Nic, you've told me the name of your childhood goldfish." Alex's eyes glinted. "You can't tell me about Squamous and not tell me about your undergrad adventures in non-heterosexuality."

"I'll tell you sometime." Nic shrugged. "It just-- I didn't think it was worth bringing up, you know? Like I said: I'm more or less straight. It's not like I'm out there specifically looking for guys to date."

_Around 5. I'll take the train down so give me about an hour._

"For that matter, it's not like I'm looking for anyone to date right now, with all this Tanis stuff going on," he added in an undertone.

"Okay," Alex said. "But I'm going to get the story out of you, now that I know it's there."

"I'm sure." Nic chuckled.

"So maybe you can pull off pretending to date Geoff, then. He _is_ probably better backup in this case than I would be."

"The military experience is a bonus, though I highly doubt we'll need it."

"Yeah. You'll email me the details, though?" Alex nudged him with her elbow, leaning against the counter next to him. Her voice was light but he could see the genuine concern in her eyes. "I need to know when to send out the search parties."

_Ok, no hurry. Say we meet up at Jackson and 5th, about 7:00?_

"I'm pretty sure you can just ask MK and she'll tell you exactly where my phone last was at any given moment, but yeah, I'll let you know." Nic looked at her with a pleading smile. "I was hoping you could look after Ein for the weekend while I'm away."

"Of course, I'd love to!"

"Thanks. I appreciate it."

"Anytime. One of these days I'm just going to keep her forever, you know." With a wave, Alex headed back toward the studio rooms. "Later, Nic."

"Later."

_You got it, dude. See you then. :)_

At one point in a morning meeting the next day, Paul shot him a look of irritation; Nic blinked and stopped drumming his pen against his notepad. After that, he kept catching himself _fidgeting_ \-- fiddling with pens and notepads and even his pocket voice recorder despite the fact that he had zero reason even to get it out of his gear bag. It took him until about half past three to realize he was behaving exactly the same way he would if he were nervous about a _real_ date rather than the practice run sort of thing he and Geoff had planned. He shook his head at himself, laughing under his breath.

Despite it being a fake date, Nic still felt a lightness in his step as he left the studio, and after walking Ein he changed into a fresh shirt, a soft brown henley he liked but didn't wear often enough. The weather was still cool enough that he grabbed a flannel overshirt on his way out as well, and as he passed through the shadows of buildings downtown he was grateful for its warmth.

"Nic! Hey, buddy!" Geoff appeared from out of the crowd and slung an arm across Nic's shoulders.

"Geoff!" Nic startled. A whiff of citrusy aftershave was the first thing he noticed; freshly shaved, hair somewhat tamed by a combing, Geoff looked sharp in a black leather jacket and rusty red v-neck shirt. "Hey, how-- oh, wow, you look nice, you put in actual effort for this. Now I feel underdressed."

"Don't worry about it, dude." Geoff looked him up and down with a crooked smile. "You look fine. I like that shirt, the color's good on you."

"Thanks."

With his arm still around Nic's shoulders, Geoff steered them towards the crosswalk. "What do you think – dinner first, or the Pinball Museum?"

"I'm starving. The museum's open until 10, right? Let's get some food."

"Yeah, good thinking. Got any favorite spots? Other than stocking up at Uwajimaya now and then, I actually don’t make it to this part of downtown much unless I have ulterior motives."

"Like practicing your fake dating skills?"

"Like dating, yeah." Ducking his head, Geoff glanced away down the street.

Nic chuckled. "Okay, well, how about Japanese? Maneki and Tsukushinbo are right over on 6th and they both do good Japanese food."

"Sounds good to me." Geoff let out a dry huff of laughter, his arm dropping away to his side; the sudden loss of warmth from Nic’s shoulders had him hunching into his flannel shirt. "Let’s go."

Between the two options, they picked the one with the shorter wait, and waited in a corner at Maneki for a few minutes before being seated and ordering their drinks.

"So what's good here?" Geoff glanced up from the menu, expectant and happy, and Nic smiled.

"Honestly, everything. Do you like unagi? We could split the two-person kamameshi."

"I'm down. Let's do it." Geoff flipped his menu closed and wrapped a hand around his beer.

"How was your day?" Over the general clamor of the restaurant, Nic had to lean in a little to avoid shouting.

"Ah, same old same old." Geoff shrugged. "Pretty tame stuff compared to tracking down an aeons-hidden traveling mystery."

"Tell me anyway." Nic poked the back of Geoff's hand. "It's nice, you know, hearing about normal things these days."

"I can imagine."

"So?"

"Not _that_ much to tell, honestly. It was a pretty quiet day. Mainly finishing up some projects from last week."

While the smell of Japanese food thick in the air and making his stomach rumble, Nic drew stories out of Geoff, listening to him talk about his normal customers, who were assholes, and his normal boss, who always made too many demands on his time. The arrival of their food interrupted Geoff in the middle of a story about the latest in a string of coworkers who each just stopped showing up to work one day.

"This is fuckin' great," Geoff said around his first bite, pointing at the bowl with his chopsticks.

"Right?" Nic dished himself up a bowlful. "Glad you like it."

Between the two of them, the large kettle was emptied out sooner than Nic expected, and before too much longer their server was coming around to clear the table and ask how they wanted the check.

"Separate."

"Together."

They both spoke at once, and Nic glanced over at Geoff, who turned a charming smile on their server. "Don't listen to him. Together."

"Okay." She looked back and forth between them, her eyes bright and expression amused, and then mouthed _keeper_ with a thumbs-up in an aside to Nic. He grinned and looked down at the table, feeling his ears turn red.

"You don't have to--" Nic started when she'd left, but Geoff waved him off.

"Don't worry about it. You can cover the museum admission."

"All right. Thanks, man."

Outside, Geoff groaned, thumping his chest and letting out a muffled belch. "Fuck. I ate way too much, but I can't even regret it. That was so good."

Now that the sun was down and the light fading from the sky, the breeze was enough to make Nic shiver; he shook out his flannel overshirt and tried to put it on, but one of the sleeves was tangled up. After a few moments of flailing for it, Nic felt Geoff come up behind him.

"Here, hang on-- Jesus Christ, what are you, five?" His tone was light, though, as he untangled the sleeve of Nic's shirt and guided his arm into it, his hand warm on Nic's back afterward as they started to meander the couple of blocks down to the museum.

"Thanks. And thanks for dinner, too."

Geoff shrugged. "Like I said, you can get the museum. Date practice, right?"

"Right." Nic slanted a look over at Geoff, his voice teasing. "So am I getting the actual 'date Geoff van Sant' experience here?"

"Accept no substitutes."

"Dinner and pinball. It's cute." Nic smiled, then took a deep breath. "God, I haven't been on a real date in-- months. Not since all this Tanis stuff started snowballing, that's for sure."

"That's what I'm here for, keeping a little normality in your eldritch as fuck podcast adventure life. Well, that and the orgy protection."

Geoff cracked up at Nic's loud, over-dramatic sigh.

"Here we go, the Pinball Museum." Geoff looked up at the bright blue neon sign while Nic found his gaze drawn inside, to the lights and the sound of jingling bells. "Ever been here before?"

"No. I've heard about it, I knew it was around here, I just-- never checked it out."

"I think you'll enjoy it."

After paying for their admission, Nic wandered up and down, looking over the machines, squeezing between other players in the cramped space.

"Which one are you going to play first?" Behind him, Nic could feel Geoff's body heat, the tickle of his breath as he leaned in close to speak.

"I don't know, I haven't decided yet." Nic shrugged. "Maybe I'll just-- start at the back and work my way forward?"

"Good a plan as any."

When Nic picked a machine, Geoff took the one next to him. The machines were packed in so close together that the two of them were almost shoulder to shoulder, elbows bumping each other as they hit the flipper buttons.

It got worse when they started trading off turns at the same machines, trying to beat each other's high scores. It took Nic about three different machines to notice Geoff was doing it on purpose -- "accidental" nudges, bumping the table, mischievous glances as he leaned in close to watch Nic play.

"Hey!" Nic edged away from Geoff's elbow, grinning. "Quit that! Not fair!"

"What? It's crowded in here!" Geoff barely shifted as Nic tried to shove at him, looking over with an expression of mock surprise and innocence. The glint in his eyes gave him away, though, and Nic shook his head.

"I've got my eye on you, meddler."

"Uh oh." Geoff grinned, but as they moved to new machines again, he stood even closer, their shoulders pressed together. The back of his hand brushed against Nic's as he flipped the pinball up the playfield.

"I like these older ones." All the pinball machines were labeled with the manufacturer and the year of construction, and Nic had found one from the early 1960s, with a cowboy theme to it.

"Yeah?" Geoff looked at him, his curious expression inviting Nic to continue.

"It's-- underneath, it's all metal and plastic and rubber, no matter how fancy the electronics get, you know? With these older ones it's not hidden as much. You get to see it in a simpler form, but they've still got pretty complicated mechanics."

"I get it." Geoff folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the pinball machine next to Nic's, a small smile on his face as he watched Nic play. "They've got beers, you want one? On me."

"Sure, thanks."

They moved around the museum from machine to machine, jostling each other and joking around, until the staff started shooing people out at closing time. Nic followed Geoff out, warm enough from the beer and the pinball that he carried his flannel overshirt in his hand instead of putting it on. The chill in the air felt good against his skin.

They kept a companionable silence on the way back to the bus station, until Geoff caught his arm and drew him to a stop outside the stairs. "So, did you have a good time?"

"I did." Nic smiled. "Thanks."

"Good. That's the most important part of a practice fake date."

"I'll let you catch your bus. Did you have any other questions or anything about this weekend?"

"Not really." Geoff shrugged. "If I think of anything, I'll ask you."

"Okay. And I mentioned how grateful I am that you're helping me out with this?"

"You have." Geoff cocked his head, chewing on his lip. "Hey, hold up."

"Hmm?"

His fingers skimmed down Nic's arm to curl around his hand. "Wouldn't be a real practice fake date without a goodnight kiss, would it?"

Nic felt his eyebrows climb upward.

"C'mon. We should get it out of the way, right? Nobody's going to believe we're dating this weekend without a single kiss the whole time. Or if it's really obviously our first kiss, for that matter."

"Good point." Nic tugged on Geoff's hand, pulling him in closer. "I'm, uh. Yeah. Okay."

Geoff reached up, his hand cupping the back of Nic's head as he kissed him. Eyes closed, Nic leaned into the pressure of Geoff's lips, soft against his. All the warmth of the beer and the pinball museum came rushing back to fill him up again, lapping in waves against his ribcage to the beat of his heart. He tilted his head for a better angle and Geoff made a pleased noise, fingers curling and uncurling in Nic's hair.

When Geoff pulled away to breathe -- to let both of them breathe -- Nic swayed forward, off-balance, his gaze drawn to Geoff's lips as he licked his own.  
  
"There," Geoff said on a soft smile, quiet though Nic could see his chest rise and fall with his rapid breathing. He squeezed Nic's hand. "Good practice, right?"  
  
"Uh." Nic tried to collect up his scattered thoughts. "Yeah. That was-- that was good."  
  
"I'll see you Friday."  
  
"Yeah. See you Friday. Hey, uh, text me when you get home so I know you haven't been abducted by the Cult of Tanis or something."

"Yeah, will do. You, too." Geoff backed away with a grin and a casual wave. As he headed north toward his own bus stop, Nic pulled his flannel shirt back on and shoved his hands into his pockets, smiling down at the ground.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I recognize the canon has made a decision, but given that it's a stupid-ass decision, I've elected to ignore it. 
> 
> A brief interlude to get us back into the swing of things after, uh, a year of not updating this story.

_Hey, thanks again for last night. I really enjoyed our fake date._

_Same here, buddy._

_I think it really helped, too. I feel a lot better about being able to pull this off over the weekend._

_Yeah, I think we'll be able to sell it. We're meeting up at the studio tomorrow, right?_

_Right. You're sure it's fine if we take your truck?_

_Of course._

_Great. I'll see you tomorrow._

_See you there._

Sliding his phone into his pocket, Nic rounded the corner into the break room and nearly collided with Alex and her brimming mug of fresh coffee.

"Alex! Sorry."

"Hey, Nic. You're in an awfully good mood today. Did I miss hearing about a new Tanis development or something?"

"Uh?" Nic set down his coffee, thinking about how the morning had gone. "Am I? I didn't think--"

"I heard you humming as you came down the hall."

"I do that sometimes."

"You brought in a box of Top Pot doughnuts for the studio this morning."

Nic shifted, lifting one shoulder. "It's been a while since we had a Top Pot Thursday, I thought the interns would appreciate it."

"They do, they love doughnuts." Alex peered at him. "It's just-- unusual to see you so...chipper."

"I don't know, I-- had a good time hanging out with Geoff last night?"

"Oh, beers at the usual place again?"

"No, uh, he came down here and we had dinner in the ID. And went to the pinball museum." Nic smiled. "It was a lot of fun, actually."

"Nic?" Alex turned to look at him. "That sounds like a _date_."

"No!" Nic paused. "Well. Not-- not a real date. A fake date. A...practice fake date."

"A practice fake date." Despite her dubious tone, Alex looked amused. "Nic, that's _absurd_."

"We're going to have to spend a whole weekend fooling a bunch of strangers into thinking we're together." Nic pointed out. "You can't say it doesn't make sense to practice a little beforehand so we don't show up looking like two obviously platonic friends who've never even kissed."

"I-- well, 'obviously platonic' might be--" She broke off, eyebrows shooting upward. "Nic!"

"What?"

"Did you _kiss_ Geoff?!"

"I-- No? He kissed me." Nic held up his hands to fend her off. "But it wasn't-- there was no tongue or anything! It was just-- we were just getting it out of the way!"

" _Nic_." With great deliberation, Alex set down her coffee mug and shaded her eyes with one hand, the curl of a smile visible below on her lips. "Did you... _enjoy_ kissing Geoff?"

"Well-- I guess. He's a pretty decent kisser. So?"

"Bear with me for a moment here." She looked at him from between her fingers, her voice brimming with exasperation and humor. "Have you considered the idea of _actually dating_ Geoff van Sant?"

"No, he's-- we're friends! He doesn't-- he hasn't ever asked me out or anything like that." Nic said. "And like I said, it's not as if _I_ want to start dating anyone in the middle of all this Tanis business. I'm not going to drag anyone else into it."

"Geoff has already _been_ dragged into it. That's exactly how you two ended up friends in the first place."

"I-- yeah, okay, that was definitely part of it. But-- we're _friends_ ," he repeated, frowning.

"Okay. Okay! Fine. You're friends." Huffing out half a chuckle, Alex shook her head, and Nic watched her visibly let the subject drop. "So, are you going to bring Ein in tomorrow for me to take her, or should I swing by your place tonight?"

"Like I could deny her a visit to the studio."

"The interns do spoil her rotten every time."

"Don't say that like you don't _also_ spoil her rotten."

"That's fair." This time Alex's laugh was bright and cheerful, without the slightest hint of shame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised I was gonna finish this and I FUCKING WILL. The current state of the canon just makes it more of an intentional nose-thumbing. I've got 16.5k of this thing written (including what's already posted) and I'd say it's probably...85% done? Hence the updated number of chapters. (I really thought this was only gonna be 4 chapters? That's adorable, past me.)


	4. Chapter 4

Despite the forecast's promise of rain to come, Friday morning dawned clear and sunny, the sky a beautiful cloudless blue as Nic tossed his bags in the trunk and hefted Ein up onto the back seat, twisting his neck in a futile effort to escape her excited licking. Last night's anxious whining while she watched him pack was forgotten in light of the thrill of today's car ride.

By the afternoon, though, the clouds had rolled in, and a light mist hazed over the studio's windows when Nic got the text at the end of the day saying Geoff had arrived. Alex wanted to see them off, so she was waiting with him, sitting on the floor of his office tapping at her laptop and scratching at Ein's ears.

"Your person's gonna be away for the weekend, Ein. You're coming home with me, what do you think about that, hmm?"

As was her habit when anyone talked to her, Ein's response was to attempt to jump up on Alex's lap and cover her entire face in dog slobber; Alex scrambled away and got to her feet, dusting herself off and laughing.

"You stay here, girl. Aunt Alex will be right back to take you home for the weekend, and I'll see you again Sunday night." Nic gave Ein's head a goodbye rub.

The building was quiet as they walked through it, the air chilled by an HVAC system that struggled during the awkward period between when the weather was consistently cold enough for heat and warm enough for cooling. Nic carried his gear bag and a small duffel he'd packed with extra clothes; next to him, Alex had the bag with the robes PNWS dug up for him and Geoff to use during the retreat.

"You know, I think you might actually have made the interns nervous."

"What do you mean?"

"Top Pot yesterday and bringing Ein in today? They're worried you're buttering them up for something terrible. Some 'Sorry we exposed you to the Unsound' level company-wide apology, version two."

"Oh."

"They'll get over their paranoia in time. Maybe. As long as nothing goes horribly wrong this weekend." Alex's lips pressed into a thin line, almost but not quite a smile. "Be careful, Nic. I'm not wild about this plan."

"These Thelema folks -- they're weird, but they're, I dunno, scandalous weird rather than murderous weird. Even if something happens and they find out, they're not-- We'd be kicked out, not killed." Nic hesitated. "Well. Arrested for trespassing maybe."

"I can't just not worry." Alex said with a sigh. "But I do feel better knowing Geoff will be there with you."

"Yeah. Me too. He's certainly dragged me out of trouble before."

Clattering down the stairs after Alex, Nic the echoes of her voice and Geoff's over the low rumble of his idling truck.

"Hi Geoff!"

"Hi Alex." Geoff hadn't bothered pulling into a parking space, just pulled up next to the elevator bank and stairwell. He cocked his head and looked past her, his smile growing as he spotted Nic emerging, bags in hand. "Hey Nic."

"Hey, Geoff."

What was the socially-appropriate greeting for one's fake date to a cult retreat weekend? If their Wednesday night date had been real, Nic might dare going in for a kiss in greeting. Except -- they _weren't_ really dating, and their only witness at the moment was in on the plot, so there was no need to maintain any pretense. Nic's pace faltered as he neared the truck.

"Here, let me." Closing the distance between them, Geoff reached out and took one of Nic's bags, fingers tucking under the strap to lift it off his shoulder and toss it behind the seats in the cab of his truck. Slinging his other bag in himself, Nic turned to get the last one from Alex, who regarded him with one raised eyebrow and an inscrutable expression. Through his shirt and flannel, Nic felt warmth: Geoff's hand, settled at his waist.

"Nic, you packed everything you need? You promise to check in with MK or me at regular intervals?"

"Yes, mom."

"Sorry. Just-- be careful, Nic. Don't get lost in the forest again." Alex chewed at her lip.

"I won't, I promise."

"And Geoff, you've got my contact info too, right?"

"Yep."

"Good. You keep an eye on this guy for me, okay? We both know he's completely incapable of staying out of trouble."

"Yes, ma'am." Geoff straightened up, his shoulders squared. "I won't let anything happen to him."

"Good."

Once Nic, Geoff, and their bags were all loaded in, they both took a minute to set up for the drive -- Geoff connecting his phone to the car's stereo system and Nic plugging in a charger.

An hour after close of business, rush hour traffic was just starting to ease up, but it was still slow going for the first leg of the trip as they headed out of Seattle on I-90. Nic watched the road pass by, the road carrying them up into the Cascades, and into the rainclouds. In short looks between typing up emails on his phone and adding to his list of questions to ask Soror Artemna about once they arrived, he watched Geoff drive. Somewhere past Lake Washington, Nic looked up again only to see Geoff already glancing over at him; their eyes met and Geoff cocked his head, considering.

"We need to think about our story."

"Hmm?" Nic locked his phone and looked up.

"Y'know, our relationship story. How'd we get together?"

"We should stick as close to the truth as possible, right? It’ll be easier to keep everything straight if we’re lying about as little as possible."

Geoff snickered. "Yeah, keeping everything _straight_ is definitely what's important here."

"Smartass." Nic rolled his eyes but couldn't help smiling. "Maybe we just say it’s all the same stuff we've actually done, but in a– a more romantic context?"

"How do you mean?"

"I mean, let's say we met because of your brother's-- death, which is true, and you asked me out for beers, which is true, and we hit it off and started going out on actual date-dates instead of just hanging out and drinking together."

"Hey, hanging out and drinking together is a time-honored classic among date ideas." Geoff glanced over at him with a grin.

"Okay, then we can say we started hanging out and drinking together, but more...romantically."

"'More romantically?'" Geoff laughed. "Dude."

"With more kissing involved? I don't know!"

The drizzle of the rain hitting the truck blurred together with the sounds of traffic around them on the highway.

"If--" Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, Geoff stared out the windshield; his expression shuttered. Were it not for a moment of quiet from the sound system as it shuffled between songs, Nic might have missed him starting to speak, and then the short, sharp exhale as he broke off.

"What?"

"If we _had_ been going on dates, real dates, all this time...what would have been different?"

"I-- don't know." Nic admitted, frowning out the side window at the shoulder of the highway and the thick wall of trees just beyond. After thinking about it, he looked back over at Geoff with half a smile. "Dinner and pinball would have been the same, at least. I hope. I really did have a great time the other night."

"Glad to hear it." He couldn't decipher the curl of Geoff's lips.

"My dates tend to be-- well, there tends to be a certain amount of awkwardness involved, usually." The back of Nic's neck grew warmer as he shifted in his seat, looking out the passenger side window. "If we had been going on real dates there probably would have been more of that."

Geoff turned to look at him, his expression growing serious. "Nic. I don't want to be the one to have to break it to you, but I think you really need to kn--"

"Shut up!" Nic said through laughter, as soon as it was obvious where Geoff was headed.

"--Seriously, dude, you're pretty fucking awkward already. I want to hear about these dates you've been on that are _even more_ awkward." Geoff gestured, his hand turning in a 'spill the beans' kind of motion. "Like, Amalia? She does _not_ seem the type to go for the awkward ones."

"Even Amalia. _Especially_ Amalia. I was _so_ awkward with Amalia." Nic let out a rueful huff. "Once we got together the chemistry was great, but that only happened because she-- took pity on me, kind of, I think."

Geoff's eyebrows went up and Nic scrambled for a deflection.

"What about you? You must have a few awkward date experiences, right? One or two at least."

A whistle came from Geoff's side of the truck cab. "So many. But with dudes, at least, the awkwardness is almost always about whether it's a date in the first place. If we're both on the same page there, it might be a _bad_ date, but probably not because it's awkward."

"Sounds like there's a story there."

"Let's just say some dudes can, uh-- repress their way through some pretty gay shit. Makes dates kind of nebulous and weird sometimes. Life lessons, man. Don't rent to first-timers and don't go on dates with guys who don't know they're into guys."

Nic laughed. "Right, okay, got it. So you don't have awkward dates with women?"

"Oh no, I've had awkward dates with women. But--" Geoff shrugged. "Expectations, you know? Makes things easier. I haven't gone on any dates with women -- or men, for that matter -- in a _while_. People-- it's the communication, you know? People talk totally differently. And it's not, like, a whole 'men are from Mars, women are from Venus' thing, I just feel like I'm getting more and more out of touch with the kinds of things women tend to talk about on dates, compared to dudes. Or I'm-- maybe I'm getting too out of touch with the normal world in general, y'know?"

"I know what you mean," A squirm of guilt ran through Nic and he felt his shoulders hunch, even as he let out a hollow laugh of agreement. "It's at least half my fault you're getting out of touch."

"I wasn't gonna say it," Geoff's face crinkled with a smile. "I could be normal if I wanted, though."

"Uh huh." Now it was Nic's turn for amused skepticism. "That's why you're driving to a sex cult retreat this weekend posing as my boyfriend."

"I didn't say I _wanted_ to be normal. I said _if_ I wanted to be normal." Nic could see Geoff's smirk in profile.

By mutual unspoken agreement, the rest of the trip was mostly quiet, Geoff weaving in and out of traffic at a steady 5-10 miles over the speed limit while Nic reviewed his questions for Soror Artemna and the various leads MK had brought him recently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> teetering on the brink of an epiphany: the Nic Silver story, volume 842


	5. Chapter 5

A gentle shake of his shoulder brought Nic out of a light doze and he blinked, bleary-eyed; he recalled them taking an exit off the highway and starting to wind through the sprawl of stores, chain restaurants, and suburban neighborhoods that made up the outlying small towns of western Washington, but not the plunge into into the deep forest Nic could see around them now.

"Nic, you awake? We're just about there, I think."

"Huh? Oh, right. Thanks." Packing away the charging cable, recorder, and notebook he'd been using during the drive, Nic peered out into the dim late-afternoon light that filtered through the greenery.

"Yeah, here we go," Geoff said, taking a left onto a gravel road only about one and a half car-widths across. "Cabin should be a few miles down this road. You ready, Frater Nicodemus?"

Nic made a face. "That's not going to stop being weird even though it is my actual name. You ready to be called Frater Grammaton all weekend?"

"Sure, I'll be fine." Geoff grinned, and Nic cocked his head.

"You're oddly calm about this."

"We're on an _undercover mission_. Buddy, this is the coolest thing thing that's happened to me in _years_."

"You're not even a little bit...I don't know, concerned? Scared?"

"Nah." Geoff glanced over. "What are they gonna do, sex magick me to death? These aren't the kind of cultists with guns and armed compounds. They're _hippies_."

"Yeah. You're probably right."

"Why, are you scared?"

Nic made an uncertain noise. "More-- nervous, I'd say. We have to pretend to know about this stuff in the company of experts for about two days straight. That's the part that worries me."

"You got a personal recommendation. They already trust you. Anything goes wrong, just say you do things differently up in Canada. Eh?"

Nic rolled his eyes.

In glimpses, and then all at once as they pulled into a clearing, a grand old building revealed itself to them. Nic guessed it had originally been built as some kind of hunting lodge; now the timbers were weathered and dark, and moss edged the slate tiles of the roof. It should have been ominous, looming stately and imposing out of the forest in the evening gloom, but there was something unassuming about it. Familial, almost.

Wooden signs directed them to one side of the building, where a few other cars were already parked. Nic scribbled down license plate numbers before shoving his notebook back in his pocket.

"Think anyone's wearing their casual Friday cloak?" Geoff asked as they both started climbing out of the truck, and Nic nearly landed face-first in the gravel as he burst into laughter.

The man who approached to greet them, wearing jeans and a faded band t-shirt, didn't particularly give off the air of a creepy sex cultist. In fact, he looked like nothing so much as a kindly Italian guy who probably owned a mid-priced restaurant in the city and remembered the names of every one of his regulars. The only thing that stood out was a large, chunky silver necklace, but even that wasn't anything Nic hadn't seen before around Fremont.

"I already know everyone else who'll be joining us here this weekend, which means either you two gentlemen are dreadfully lost, or one of you is Nicodemus," he said, smiling, hands spread wide.

"That would be me," Nic said, setting down his bags. "And you are--?"

"I am the high priest, Astramarin. If you are Nicodemus, then this fine fellow must be your...partner? Frater Grammaton, was it?"

"Yep, that's me." Squaring his shoulders, Geoff nodded. Reaching out, the priest clasped each of them by the forearm.

"Welcome and well met, brothers. Do what thou wilt be the whole of the law."

Standard greetings, that much Nic had figured out. "Love is the law, love under will."

"Let me show you to a room so you can drop off your things. Most of us who have arrived are gathered in the front room, if you want to join us after you've had a chance to rest."

"Thank you, that's very kind."

As they gathered up their bags to follow Astramarin inside, Geoff leaned in, his warm breath tickling Nic's ear as he whispered. "It's-a me, Astramario."

"You're _terrible_ ," Nic hissed back, shoulders shaking with laughter.

Through the open doors they passed, following Astramarin, Nic could catch glimpses of spacious rooms, and the bedroom set aside for their use was no different; paneled with dark wood and full of sturdy, well-loved furniture, polished with age. Flopping onto the bed, Nic heard leather creak and Geoff's sigh of pleasure as he sank into one of the chairs.

"This is a nice place."

"I wonder who owns it."

"You think it's Mario?"

Nic snorted. "Stop. You'll slip up and call him that to his face, and then they'll catch on to us."

After a moment, as if he'd been considering it, Geoff laughed. "Almost worth it. I bet the other cultists call him that behind his back. I'm gonna ask 'em."

Nic unlocked his phone and pulled up his memo app to review his note file on Thelema language and traditions that might make an appearance, steeling himself for a grilling by the other cultists.

"Reviewing your Thelema cliff notes?" Nic craned his head back and saw Geoff watching him.

"Yep. Want me to quiz you?"

"Fire away."

Ten minutes of back-and-forth quizzing later, Nic decided there was no point in further stalling, and led the way down the stairs.

By the time all the participants had arrived, there were eleven people in total, a number sacred in Thelemic practice. Nic and Geoff had met Astramarin's partner, a poly trio he also performed rituals with on occasion, and two other couples -- but so far, the trust MK's email had earned them held up, and they were willing enough to forgive a few minor errors here and there from a couple of neophytes. Combined with the fact that none of them were too free with -- or curious about -- personal information, and Nic thought things were going smoothly so far.

When the evening's conversation dissolved into less of a free-for-all and more of a collection of smaller groups talking amongst themselves, Nic worked his way around the fringes of the room, dodging end tables and hanging plants, until he reached the high priest.

"Frater Astramarin, if you have a moment, I wanted to ask you a question before the weekend progresses too far."

"Certainly, brother. What is it?" Astramarin placed his hand on Nic's elbow and guided them away from the chatter in the front parlor, through a doorway and down a corridor that smelled like it must lead to the kitchen.

"I'm very interested in Soror Artemna's history with the order, especially some of the workings she's been involved in over the years. Would it be possible for me to schedule some time to speak with her, one on one?"

"Ahh." Astramarin smiled, patting Nic on the arm. "You're not the first one to ask, you know. We are fortunate; Soror Artemna is being very generous with her time while we're all here. I think we will be able to carve some out for you as well."

He pulled a small notebook from his back pocket and flipped through it. "Yes -- she has some open time tomorrow. Does that work for you? Around ten in the morning?"

"Really? That's-- yeah, that would be great."

"How much time would you like?"

"Uh, an hour would be incredible. But if she wants to keep it shorter, of course I completely--"

"We'll put you down for an hour. Once I've had a chance to confirm it with her I'll check back with you later in the evening, hmm?"

"Of course. Thank you, Frater Astramarin. You've been incredibly helpful."

"Think nothing of it, brother. We are all here to support one another in the Great Works of our lives." Astramarin put his notebook away again and clapped Nic on the shoulder, his hand lingering. "You know, it's also common at events like this to conduct certain higher-order initiations and rituals. Has anyone in the Vancouver chapter of the Order spoken to you about such things yet?"

"Oh, I'm not-- I'm certainly eager to learn, but I don't think it would be appropriate to skip over anything-- important." Nic swallowed. Astramarin's hand, still curled around his bicep, stroked up and down a little in an indication of just what kind of 'initiation' the other man had in mind.

"Ah, Nicodemus! There you are!" Striding down the hallway, Geoff stepped in close, his arm looping around Nic's waist to draw him flush against his side. Nic shifted his weight to lean against Geoff, a rush of relief going through him. "Frater Astramarin."

"Frater Grammaton." Astramarin smiled. "I was just asking Nicodemus here if he -- and you, of course -- might be interested in working with myself and Frater Panos on some of the more...esoteric rituals. Mysteries of the eleventh degree."

"Oh, that's-- an honor, it really is, but we have to decline." Geoff sounded genuinely apologetic, even embarrassed. "Nicodemus and I are currently working on some, uh, _sensitive_ rituals. Just between the two of us. You know how it goes."

At Geoff's half-shrug, Frater Astramarin nodded in understanding, his eyes warm. "Of course. Such matters can be...fraught. I'll let Panos and the others know you're not interested in group work. Best of success with your endeavors."

"Thank you, brother. You're too kind." When Astramarin had moved away, Nic sagged a little, letting his head drop against Geoff's shoulder.

"Thanks, man." Nic's breath left him in a rush. "Not that I think they'd have drugged me to have their way with me if I were here alone, but still…"

"Yeah, I know." Geoff's thumb rubbed a small circle at his hip, and Nic felt the brush of lips across his temple. "Don't worry, man. I got your back. Even cultists respect the jealous boyfriend."

It was past midnight when the group finally disbanded to get some sleep, and tension bled out of Nic's body as the bedroom door closed behind them. For all that their cover seemed to be holding, it was a relief to be able to stop pretending to be someone he wasn't.

Having brushed his teeth and changed into an undershirt and boxers to sleep in, Nic emerged from the in-suite bathroom and saw Geoff look up from where he was stretched out on the couch, fiddling with his phone. His throat bobbed as he swallowed. "Hey."

"Hmm?"

"I'll take the couch, okay?"

"What? Why?"

"I wasn't sure how far you wanted to go with this whole...thing." His voice dropped and there was something uncertain in his expression, almost guarded.

"Dude, I'm not-- I'm not gonna make you sleep on the couch." Nic laughed. "If anyone's going to sleep on the couch it should be me. I'm the one who dragged you into this. And you know I don't sleep much anyway."

"So you should have a comfortable bed for the sleep you do get." For a moment Geoff paused, then shrugged, the motion jerky, almost throwing his hands up. "If you're okay with sharing the bed, so am I."

"Yeah, that's fine." Grabbing his tablet, Nic flipped climbed into the bed, scooting up until his back was braced against the headboard, a couple of pillows behind his back for padding. The soft mattress sank under his weight. It had a dip in the middle, and Nic listed inward a bit, but the sheets were starchy and fresh, an industrial sort of clean reminiscent of a hotel.

"I'm gonna stay up for a bit, do some reading." He waggled the tablet. "But if you want to get some sleep, I can dim the screen."

"Uh, sure. Just a sec." Geoff plugged in his phone and left it on top of the dresser. He looked at the bed, then around the room. "Don't worry about the light, I'll be fine, but...mind if I take that side of the bed?"

"Uh. Sure." Nic scooted over, shifting to the far side of the bed.

"Thanks."

The room went dim, lit only by the small bedside lamp, then almost to total darkness as Geoff turned that off, too, and climbed into bed. The screen of Nic's tablet seemed suddenly too bright, glaring, and he dimmed it to a level that allowed him to read without casting its glow too far.

The bed wasn't so small that they were forced into cuddling in order to fit two people, but neither was it quite large enough for them maintain much space between each other, even without the sag in the middle. The sheets rustled as Geoff got settled in, curled up on his side a little, facing away from Nic.

Silence settled over the room -- the creaking of the old lodge, a few muffled words from someone in the hallway, the rustle of the forest outside, the barely-audible noises of the birds and animals that lived out there. Nic could hear Geoff's breathing, too; the whisper of air through his lips, the sheets shifting minutely as his chest rose and fell.

Between a full day's work, the long drive, and the stress of performing an act all evening, even after the wine started flowing, Nic didn't think stay awake much longer, but since he'd no doubt be waking up in a few hours, as usual, he wanted to put off sleeping as long as possible. There was something-- _lonelier_ about being awake in the pre-dawn hours, rather than late at night.

Nic tapped at the bezel of his tablet, then glanced over at Geoff, the curve of his shoulder and the dark spikes of his hair.

"Hey," he said.

"Huh?" Geoff sounded half-asleep already.

"Am I still getting the real 'date Geoff van Sant' experience?" In the dark, Nic couldn't make out much in the way of details, but he could see -- and feel, as the bed jiggled -- Geoff turn over to face him. His hair was already flattened on one side from the pillow, and he squinted up at Nic's face through one slitted eye. "I mean, is this what you're really like, when you're dating someone?"

There was a moment of silence, and then a soft huff of laughter from Geoff, sending a gust of warm air against Nic's hip. His lips twitched upward. "This is some teenage girl sleepover shit, buddy."

"Shut up." Nic smiled. "I just-- you're good at it, is all I was gonna say. You're really-- you're great at the whole...boyfriend thing."

He turned to look at Geoff, who held his gaze for a moment, then closed his one open eye.

"Thanks." His voice was soft, something in its timbre that Nic couldn't decipher. Yawning, he turned back over again.

"Good night, Nic."

"Good night, Geoff."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Transitions? What are those? (Also: rating will be going up next chapter. *eyebrows waggle*)


	6. Chapter 6

When Nic awoke, for a moment everything was unfamiliar -- as he remembered where he was, why the pillow under his head and the sheets against his skin were different, why the mattress wasn't broken in in the ways he was used to -- the rest of the situation descended on him by degrees.

The first surprise was that he'd slept well, despite-- everything. His head was fuzzy with it, his mind drifting gently to the shores of the real world as the first weak fingers of sunlight teased at the edges of the window curtains. In fact, he suspected he might still be asleep if he hadn't gotten so excessively warm, like he was pressed up against a large hot water bottle. As he shifted, his arm tightening, Geoff made a small noise and Nic felt hair tickle his nose.

That was the second surprise: at some point during the night, he'd wrapped himself around Geoff from behind, clinging to him like a limpet. One arm was draped over his ribcage, Geoff's hand over his. His legs were tucked up against Geoff's, and he realized with a mental wince that his morning wood was pressing against Geoff's ass.

He'd moved enough to wake Geoff, apparently; pressed up against Geoff's back, Nic could feel a low, sleepy groan vibrate in his chest, which did nothing to improve Nic's hardon situation.

"Morning," he said, hesitant. He felt like he should-- he should let go of Geoff and move away, right? He should _want_ to move away. _Geoff_ probably wanted him to move away -- this had to be more than he signed up for when he agreed to be Nic's fake boyfriend for the weekend.

"Hnmghmornin'," Geoff mumbled in reply, and laced his fingers through Nic's, bringing their joined hands up to his mouth to brush the knuckles with a kiss. Nic froze and felt something clench with surprise in his chest; next to him Geoff went still as well.

"I should-- get up. And get dressed." Nic blurted, pulling his hand free from Geoff's.

Chalking the situation up to Geoff not really being awake yet, Nic shuffled awkwardly around the room, grabbing fresh clothes from his bag and closing the door behind him as he stepped into the bathroom. The chill of the tile floor made him hiss.

Though the bathtub had spots of wear, and the shower head was nothing fancy, the water pressure was decent enough, and Nic turned his face up into the spray when he stepped in, letting it drench him.

Looking down at his cock, still half-hard, Nic figured he might as well handle the situation the quick way and wrapped a hand around himself, letting his mind wander. Most of the time, his fantasies stayed pretty generic when he wasn't actually seeing anyone, but he supposed his subconscious considered a fake boyfriend to be close enough to the real thing, because he found himself thinking about Geoff -- the way he'd kissed him on their date and the bright notes of his citrus aftershave, the brush of his lips over Nic's knuckles, the warmth of him and the way Nic had _felt_ as much as heard his sleep-roughened voice when he was pressed up against him.

Nic came imagining Geoff's hand wrapped around him instead of his own, his free hand braced against the shower wall.

"Fuck," he breathed.

Finishing his shower, he dawdled in the bathroom for too long before emerging, keeping his gaze on the floor as he rummaged around in his bag to collect up a notepad and his pocket recorder.

"You want backup for this interview?" The question was broken up by a yawn; automatically, Nic's head jerked up to respond and his eyes caught on Geoff's bare chest, the play and flex of muscles as he stretched his arms up over his head.

"No, uh, I'll-- I'm sure it'll be fine."

"Okay. If anything happens, you can probably yell loud enough for me to hear anyway. Just -- promise me one thing."

"Hmm?" Forcing himself to look away, Nic fiddled with his recorder, turning it off and on and checking all the buttons and dials with, perhaps,  more attention than was strictly required.

"Don't _drink_ anything funny." Despite Geoff's grin, Nic hadn't missed the underlying seriousness of his tone.

"I promise."

"Okay. Give me ten and we can go grab some breakfast?"

Meals were a strange affair -- Nic and Geoff had arrived too late for dinner Friday night, which had apparently been Chinese, but for breakfasts, Astramarin and his partner had brought about 4 dozen mismatched farm eggs and a couple boxes of produce with a farm share logo on the side. The smell and sizzle of food and the clatter of pots and pans led them to the large kitchen, where about half the attendees puttered around between the multiple ranges and the long butcher-block island in the middle of the room. Breakfast was a "fend for yourself" affair, apparently.

Later on, after everyone had eaten and most of them had gathered in the front parlor again, Frater Astramarin collected Nic and accompanied him back upstairs, down the hallway past the other bedrooms to what Nic guessed was the master suite at the end of the hall. Knocking before entering, Astramarin preceded Nic into the room and bowed to the room's occupant once he was inside. Nic followed and bowed as well, trying to mimic as best he could.

Soror Artemna was-- _regal_ was the only word Nic could come up with at first. Her hair must have been flame-red in her youth; now it was more silver than anything else, but hints of its once-bright color remained. The bones of her lined face were sturdy under the fine skin, and her light eyes remained sharp. Nic would have placed her north of 60, if pressed, but beyond, that her age was unclear. She might have been 61, or she might have been a well-preserved 90.

"Soror Artemna."

"Frater Astramarin. And Frater-- I'm so sorry, was it-- Nicodemus?"

"Yes, that's correct, Soror Artemna." Nic smiled. "I'm impressed. I'm still having trouble remembering everyone's names."

"Don't patronize me, young man." Artemna smiled at him, but it did have a bit of an edge, to accompany the one in her voice.

"I'm not-- I genuinely can't remember everyone's name." Nic ran a hand through his hair, smiling in what he hoped was a disarming manner.

"Soror Artemna -- as we discussed, Nicodemus asked me if it would be possible to claim some of your time to talk about the Atlantean Operation you took part in, back in the 70s."

"Yes, I remember. Thank you, Astramarin." Soror Artemna waved him away. "I'm happy to speak with the young man. Can you send up a fresh pot of tea?"

"Oh, I'm--" Nic started.

"Not for you, for me." The old woman leveled a flat look at him. "It takes certain regular processes to keep things up and running in this old body of mine these days."

"Oh."

"Certainly, Soror. I'll send some up right away." Astramarin smiled and waved Nic to a seat. "Please."

Nic sat down as Astramarin left, eyeing Soror Artemna with uncertainty. When they were alone in the room, she bent a critical eye on him.

"Well."

"Ma'am." Nic nodded. "Are you willing to talk with me about-- about the Atlantean Operation?"

"Why do you _want_ to talk about it? I'm well aware that I am the only one left alive who took part in that Operation. I thought that interest in it would have long faded by now."

"Before we start, can I-- may I record this discussion and take notes?" Nic held up the pocket recorder in one hand, his notepad and pen in the other. When Artemna nodded, he turned the recorder on and set it down on the table between them at the edge of the table.

"Thank you. I found out about the Atlantean Operation from--" Nic wracked his brain, unable for a moment to recall when and where it had come up. Something MK had mentioned, about Thelema, and he'd been scanning through news archives for any articles about activity by the Ordo Templi Orientis around the time that Pacifica station had been active-- ah. That was it. "I was reading up on old articles about the Order, and there was a mention of the Atlantean Operation being conducted in the area, and I thought-- well, there have been few enough Operations over the years that involved so many members. It surprised me that it wasn't as notorious to the public as, say, Jack Parsons' work down in California."

At the mention of Jack Parsons, Soror Artemna's gaze took on a steely glint, and she stared at Nic in silence for a moment. "Young man, do not dissemble with me."

They stared at each other in silence for a moment, and then there was a knock at the door. Frater Astramarin returned, tea set in hand, lingering only long enough to drop it off and nod to their murmured thanks before leaving again.

Artemna set the pot to steep, then glanced at the door through which the high priest had left. At some point only she could see, her gaze focused and she looked back at Nic. "I will speak with you about the Atlantean Operation, but _not_ under false pretenses. And--"

"That's fine--" Nic began, then paused.

"And, you will _not_ make my voice or face public. The secrets of the Order will remain in the care of the Order."

Nic tried to put on a neutral, earnest expression, no hint of anything untoward reflecting in his face, but Artemna's gaze sliced right through him. "Of course, I would never--"

" _Nicodemus_. How old do you think I am?" Nic opened his mouth, but she waved him off. "Don't answer that, to save an old woman's vanity. You don't think I, as the last remaining member of those who worked on the Atlantean Operation, would be aware of any up and coming member of Thelema who showed interest in that operation's works?"

"Certainly, in the Seattle area, I would imagine so-- I don't know if Astramarin told you, I'm in town from Vancouver--"

"Nicodemus." Every time she said his name, it sounded increasingly like a cat had left a hairball in one of her slippers. "Stop. All I ask of you is the truth, and for my secrets to stay safe with you, _as yours will with me_."

"I--" Nic swallowed. Whatever was going on here, however much this woman knew, or thought she knew, Nic couldn't afford to have her make a scene. "Okay. Okay, I'll-- I won't publish your name, or your face, or anything you say, anything we talk about."

Nic held up the recorder. "But just-- just let me record everything, so I know I didn't miss anything in my notes."

"Very well." She nodded. "Tell me what really brings you here, Nicodemus."

Nic sighed. "All right. I'm here because-- there's this thing called Tanis."

"Tanis. Yes. I first heard that name many years ago." Straightening up in his chair with an abrupt jerk, Nic stared at Artemna. "What? You think the Order conducted the Atlantean Operation without coming across a single mention of the thing which you know as Tanis?"

"I, uh." Nic blinked. "I suppose not."

"That's right. We did our research, as you have. We read the trapper's journal, the unpublished Blake works-- after I tell you about the Atlantean Operation, let's compare sources. I'm sure I can provide one or two that have yet to be brought to your attention." She poured two cups of tea, pushing one toward him.

"That-- would be great." Nic eased back in his chair, teacup and saucer in hand. Still, before he drank from it, he watched Artemna mix cream and sugar into hers and bring it to her lips.

"Come now, Nicodemus." She took a sip of her tea, her throat working as she swallowed. "We have established trust between us, haven't we? Shared our secrets with each other. As Thelema teaches us, though each person is a domain unto themselves, our very lives are interconnected with those of the people around us. Drink freely, brother. I'll even swap cups with you, if you want."

"I'm-- that's fine. Thank you for the offer." Nic said, and sighed internally before taking a sip. _Sorry, Geoff_. Come to think of it, he hadn't set any kind of guidelines with Geoff, but Nic was certain he would be waiting, at the end of the allotted interview hour to make sure Nic hadn't been drugged or waylaid. If Nic ended up in some compromised situation, if anything happened, Geoff would know, and Nic would wake up looking at Geoff's angry expression, owing him a lifetime's supply of beers.

"Very well. The Atlantean Operation, then."

"Yes." His caution about its contents notwithstanding, the tea was surprisingly good.

"As I said, we knew the name 'Tanis.' It was not the name _we_ used for the thing we'd been following, the name we considered the most representative of that thing which exists today in the Pacific Northwest, after relocating from Europe. The thing which left its mark so indelibly on not only the Haida but the Western settlers who came to claim the land that wasn't theirs."

Nic nodded.

"The purpose of the Atlantean Operation was to channel this energy, this-- force, whatever it was. To tap into it and form a Great Work from it to benefit the order, and ultimately all mankind."

"We knew about Pacifica Station," she continued, and Nic blinked in surprise.

"You-- did?"

"Oh, Cameron Ellis likes to think everything he does is hush hush, top secret, need to know and all that, but the truth of the matter is, word gets around, in certain circles." Artemna tapped the side of her nose. "The Order isn't a populous group, but we are diverse. We have inroads in a wide variety of fields. And, as a side effect of the Order's...unsettling reputation in the wider world, most of us tend to keep our membership private, so people often don't know just which pies we have our fingers in."

Nic nodded. "I can imagine."

"One of our members was actually recruited for a stint at Pacifica Station, as it happened."

"Holy shit," Nic said, then shut up as Artemna glared at him -- though her eyes twinkled as she did.

"Quite. Her reports back were-- eye-opening, at the very least. Describing the way that Tanis -- the Breach -- affected both the natural world and the humans who interacted with it." Artemna peered at him. "Of course, you wouldn't know anything about _that_ firsthand."

"I, uh--" Nic scratched at the back of his neck, looking away. "I do have experience with it. With the Breach, Tanis, whatever you want to call it. I've been there. Uh, more than once, actually."

" _Really_." The surprise in her voice was entirely artificial. "Once you've finished with your questions, I'm sure I can come up with a few for you. There may not be anyone left who worked on the Atlantean Operation, but my curiosity remains. Perhaps we'll want to take another look into conducting a new Great Work."

At Nic's startled look, she chuckled. "Perhaps not. I think, when you ask the questions you came here to ask, you'll have a better understanding of just why that was a joke, posed out of a particularly black sense of humor."

"O-- kay."

"So: ask away. What do you want to know?"

"I guess the big thing is...what does the Order know about Tanis? I mean, if you-- we--" He froze, and Artemna's lips thinned.

"Yes, continue."

"I-- yes. Okay." Nic took a deep breath. "If the Order was attempting to harness the power of Tanis as far back as the 70s, the 80s, the 90s, the aughts-- what happened? Why aren't you still trying? And what did you do in that original operation-- not, like, 'we tried to harness the power of Tanis' -- what _concrete activities_ did the Order undertake in relation to Tanis?"

"Let me answer your questions from back to front. I think that will provide the...clearest explanation of events."

"As I said, one of our members spent time at Pacifica Station, as one of the researchers posted there to study its effects." Artemna took on a far-off look. "But that wasn't the beginning of our interest in Tanis-- rather instead a fortuitous windfall that advanced our cause. Our interest in Tanis began quite some time earlier. You know about Aleister Crowley's 'Jeptha' already."

"Yes, I do, but--" Nic felt like the conversation was getting away from him. "Do you-- I-- how do you--?"

"Young man. You came to me seeking information about that which is known as Tanis, because you believed I had such information." Artemna narrowed her eyes at him, and Nic remembered being on the receiving end of that very same expression of dubious disappointment from his own grandmother at some point. "Can you not even imagine that I would be aware of you for the same reasons? I know who you are, Nicodemus Silver."

Nic dropped his cup onto the table, wincing as it hit clattered against the saucer, looking at Artemna in alarm. "What do you-- no, I'm--"

"Please. Stop." Artemna sighed. "Do not embarrass yourself."

 _Even further_ went unspoken, but Nic felt the tips of his ears grow warm.

"Now I believe we have reached the same page. Let us continue, shall we?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, if I started getting into pesky things like _plot details_ or _Nic's inner monologue_ we'd be here all day. Ain't nobody got time for that shit.


End file.
